


Like Us

by owlboxes



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, But only to make the timeline work, Developing Relationship, M/M, canon character death, very slightly canon non-compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24536257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlboxes/pseuds/owlboxes
Summary: John Bridgens watches a beautiful relationship bloom.
Relationships: John Bridgens/Harry Peglar, Thomas Jopson/Lt Edward Little
Comments: 12
Kudos: 53





	Like Us

**Author's Note:**

> This angsty little drabble was written for the Joplittle Prompt Week! 
> 
> [ @pooraurora ](https://pooraurora.tumblr.com/) on tumblr requested Joplittle from an outsider POV, either Goodsir or Bridgens, and I couldn't resist letting an Experienced Outsider Gay get to appreciate how beautiful these two young men are.

The first time Bridgens noticed, it was just a glance between two men, in a crowded room. It lingered a little longer than was absolutely necessary, but that wasn’t much to go on. Men looked at each other all the time, and it was no reason to make any real assumptions, even if he couldn’t quite shake this feeling like he was witnessing the start of something beautiful.

His curiosity had been admittedly piqued over a brief conversation he’d shared with his darling Harry earlier, in the few moments that they had alone where they could murmur quietly between one another without being overheard.

“Lieutenant Little and the captain’s steward, Mister Jopson,” he’d whispered - Harry wasn’t one for gossip, but it seemed like a pressing thought that he couldn’t quite keep himself from sharing. “The way they look at one another, makes me wonder if they aren’t...well...” His voice trailed. He made a vague gesture between them, his eyes shining in the low light. “Like us.”

Like us had a lot of implications to it, and a varying degree of levels at which one might interpret it. Were there inclinations but no willingness to follow through? Had one or the other already made their interest known? Did they steal glances, or light brushes of hands when no one was looking, as he and Harry did on the rare occasions that they were in the same space? Did their hearts ache for one another in their separation, the way that his frequently did when he thought of his dear boy, nose buried in a book between watches, likely missing him just as keenly?

John’s own curiosity became equally pressing, though there was little he could do for it. Asking either party could potentially have dire consequences, especially if his Harry’s assumptions were incorrect - and even if they weren’t, he knew that he would feel unsettled with the knowledge that someone outside of his very secret relationship was aware of it. His interactions with Terror’s crew were few and far between, and to catch both men in the same room at the same time would be a difficult task.

The first step toward confirmation of their suspicions came on the night of Carnivale. Jopson had entered at his Captain’s side, devoid of costume and busy fretting over Crozier’s state more than actively interested in participating in the festivities. Mr. Reid had stumbled, drunkenly, into the Captain, and Lieutenant Little, quick as ever, had been there to separate them. For a moment, Jopson had looked up and met Little’s gaze, a brief thing, a silent thank you for intervening. But that wasn’t what had caught Bridgens’ attention.

Afterward, Lieutenant Little had followed them, his silly costume hat clutched in his hands. Some might have taken it for curiosity over his Captain’s sudden appearance after being bedridden for so long. One thing made it clear that wasn’t the case: the entire time, Little’s eyes had not left the steward. Edward Little always looked tired, melancholy, but there was something more to it this time, something hopeful, a want to be looked at again. It was a sentiment that Bridgens could certainly relate to, something he’d personally experienced after he’d been introduced to the young and lively man that he now held so dear to his own heart.

In the aftermath of Carnivale, there was no time to think of such things, and for some time, that curiosity was quelled, under the weight of the sudden loss of three out of four of the ships’ doctors. But it resurfaced some months later when, out on foot, some of society’s standards had been eschewed in favor of seeking comfort.

He noticed it keenly then. The smallest things gave them away to a man who was looking for the signs and knew them well himself: the way that Jopson’s bright eyes sparkled with admiration when he would watch Little from afar, how they pulled weight on the same sledges whenever possible, Little’s hand on Jopson’s shoulder, squeezing with gentle reassurance and the lingering glance shared between them in such moments. They smiled more openly around one another, even through hardships that were enough to break the spirit of a good number of their party. It was striking - he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Little smile before, but Jopson brought it out of him as if it were the most natural thing.

He’d caught them together when they’d made camp too, standing off between rows of tents and speaking softly between themselves. Jopson had grasped Little’s arm and had given him the warmest grin as he leaned in closer to whisper something meant just for the two of them. The flush that had colored the Lieutenant’s cheeks afterward was most certainly not from the cold.

He felt a tremendous sense of joy for them both, even as an outside observer, who could not risk making himself known. To watch them grow closer, even as the arctic terrain threatened to pull them apart, was something in which he could take comfort. With death always on the doorstep, these quiet, private moments needed desperately to be cherished.

And indeed, death made itself known. With Harry’s hand clutched in his own - chilled, already, at the fingertips, when he pressed them to his lips - John found himself wishing for a thousand more of those quiet moments. Even the least educated men on this godforsaken expedition could see clearly that there was little hope to hold on to. With his heart lying dead beside him, pale, soft, lovely even in the aftermath of his illness, there was little reason to carry on.

He found Lieutenant Little emerging from the tent in which he knew Jopson was laid out, dying of the very same illness that had claimed his Harry, the wretched thing that had taken his joy from him. The men shared a long look, and stood in silence, understanding, without words needing to be said, the very grief that they were both suffering. Losing a shipmate was one thing. Losing a lover was another entirely.

“Tend to him,” Bridgens said finally, resting a hand atop Little’s shoulder, and feeling him sag under the weight of reassuring contact. He could see wetness at the corners of the Lieutenant’s sad eyes, could see the tightness of his lips as he struggled to maintain the facade of a man checking on his fellow officer’s health, rather than a lover who was counting the minutes until they would never speak again. “Cherish him until his last breath. He’ll be waiting for you in the next life.”

Little’s nod was all that he could manage without crumbling under the weight of combined gratitude at being seen, and understood, and the sorrow of knowing that the greatest loss was unavoidable. Bridgens nodded, shared that same awful weight that neither of them would ever be able to shake off. And without another word, he headed out from camp, Harry’s journal clutched tight in his hand.

As he laid out on the rocks, his stomach empty, his body freezing, his heart aching, John Bridgens thought of Jopson and Little, of their shared smiles, of a blossoming relationship that would end far too soon in tragedy. He thought of Harry’s soft lips, the warmth of his embrace, the joy that his very presence had always brought. He knew, once he closed his eyes and allowed his soul to go, he would fly up to heaven and Harry would be waiting there for him.

And, he hoped, if he was lucky enough, they might be given the privilege of greeting two young, lovestruck lieutenants upon their arrival.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, you can find me on tumblr at [ @owlboxes ](https://owlboxes.tumblr.com/). I take requests for drabbles! <3


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